


Gold Into Base Metal

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Kiddie Lit Revisited [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Adult Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternative Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beauty and the Beast, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Beauty and the beast retelling, Books, Companionship, Elf, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Parody, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fluff and Angst, Freedom, Hollow Tree Trunk Home, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Love, M/M, Magic Golden Light, Magical Rooms, Male Slash, Ogre, Ogre Gold, Parody, Slash, fairy tale, loveless relationship, magical spells, prisoner, shape changing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 23:25:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: The McCoy elf lives in a tree trunk with the ogre so that the ogre will leave his village and family in peace.  While the ogre labors to make a living for them in his fields, the McCoy elf reads books all day in leisure but still wishes for his freedom.Who is the real ogre in this tale?





	1. There Is No Magic In The World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Al_JustATrekkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Al_JustATrekkie/gifts), [Bec_de_Lievre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bec_de_Lievre/gifts).



> "Beauty And The Beast" is my favorite fairy tale. This is my retelling of the perennial romance.
> 
> Inspired by a plot bunny from mindbender.

“There is no magic in the world for those who are alone and have no one to believe in them.”

The McCoy elf read the sentence a second time, then set the book aside and thought about the words that he had just read. He wondered if that statement was really true, or if it was merely the musings of a housebound author much as the McCoy elf was a housebound reader? In all likelihood, the author was probably already dead and not caring anything about philosophical suppositions, or anything else, anymore.

The McCoy elf stared listlessly at the glimpses of the world outside the tree roots. It was high summer, and the green grass in the shade of the rustling oak leaves looked cool and inviting. The McCoy elf sighed. Another day spent guarding the ogre’s pot of gold inside the hollow tree and reading old books, and McCoy was no closer to realizing his dream of becoming a human once more.

 

“Why do you wish so vehemently for something you cannot be?” the ogre would demand. “Why do you wish to be a man when I provide for you, and protect you, and feed you?”

But McCoy could not explain. He wanted to be free, but the ogre could not possibly understand that. For the free do not understand the plight of the oppressed.

But the ogre needed an answer, so McCoy would say, “It is the idea that I cannot come and go as I please.”

Then the ogre would shake his massive head. “Freedom of movement is not everything, Earthling. Why does the swan swim around the circular lake when it will eventually return to its point of origin? All that the traveling has accomplished is to exhaust the swan. Yet the swan continues to swim, day in and day out, and gets nowhere.”

“But the swan has the idea of freedom,” the McCoy elf stated again, as he had so many times before. “In her heart she is as free as the birds in the sky to come and go as she wishes. The idea makes all the difference in the world to her.”

“A useless exercise.” The ogre pulled his massive body to his feet. “And a useless discussion. It is time I go to tend to the fields. You will stay here and guard my gold.”

“What good is the gold? You do not spend it.”

“It is mine! As it was my father’s before me. And I will not be without it.”

“But it’s beauty is dimmed here inside this hollow tree. It needs to be shared with the world, as much as I need to be shared with the world. You cannot keep the gold and me prisoners forever. It is not right.”

“You are both mine! You will both be waiting for me when I return! You will not leave! For without me, you both will be useless! You would be nothing without me! Nothing!” the ogre roared. Then he bent to leave his home inside the hollow tree, and as he did so, he left the McCoy elf and his ogre gold sealed away from the world.

 

After the McCoy elf had tidied their quarters and had thrown their few bread crumbs from breakfast through the tree roots for the birds to eat, McCoy had nothing more to do except read. That was one pastime that the ogre did allow him. It was the one thing that preserved the sanity for the McCoy elf.

First the McCoy elf made certain that the door in the wall of the hollow tree was securely closed on the ogre’s gold, then the McCoy elf could go to the library and select a book. Only a small door led to the library, for this was, after all, the trunk of an oak tree and rather a young oak tree, at that. But that small door had a space behind it and that space opened into a miniature room which contained only a few book-lined shelves. The McCoy elf never questioned how such a small shelf and such a small room could house such a wide range of books He was just interested in the fact that the books continued to appear. 

Since the McCoy elf had come to the ogre’s home in the hollow tree, he had seen, and had handled, and had read hundreds, maybe even thousands, of those books. Of course, he did not read all that was in some of the books, but he acquainted himself to the contents so he could return to a certain book, if needed. His interests expanded, also, in time and became more eclectic and more far reaching than any knowledge he had acquired in his small village. Through reading, he was becoming more worldly and more cosmopolitan. That was one reason why he hungered for the world beyond the tree trunk. Another reason, he decided, was that people just shouldn't live in tree trunks, no matter how cozy and accommodating his life here was.

Once, the McCoy elf had asked the ogre why only a few books could be seen at any one time. The ogre had simply shrugged his massive shoulders and had answered that only one book could be read at any time, so why should there be stacks and stacks of books lying about when only one book was needed? Indeed, if the McCoy elf tired of a particular book, all he had to do was think of another book or topic, and an appropriate volume could be found on one of the few shelves in the small library. It was a talented librarian indeed who maintained the shelves of that magical, mystical library!

But the McCoy elf rarely tired of his reading material. How could he when the adventures of the world lay at his fingertips? Everyday, the titles changed. If the McCoy elf waited enough days, a certain title might reappear on the few shelves, but that did not happen very often. The ogre must be a very learned man, indeed, because a lot of the books dealt with philosophy and ancient literature and the sciences. Nothing so plebeian as space travel appeared for the McCoy elf, though, and he really would have liked to have read about space travel. But if the ogre had worthless books in his collection, the McCoy elf never saw them. It was as if the ogre wanted the McCoy elf to obtain a well-rounded, but discerning reading background. It might even have been the ogre’s way of preparing the McCoy elf for a world he would never be a part of. 

Some days, though, the McCoy elf grew tired of reading about other people’s adventures. He wanted to be out and about in the larger world and have adventures of his own. Was it cruel of the ogre to let the McCoy elf learn of the world, but deny him the opportunity to participate in it? He had thought once that a contemplative life with books would be perfect. Now he wanted his freedom.

 

When the shadows drew long outside signaling the end of the long day of quiet study and contemplation, the McCoy elf would put the books away, which he had read all day, and awaited the ogre’s return, which happened at sunset. Despite himself, the McCoy elf felt a feeling of anticipation. The ogre was gruff and clumsy, but always treated the McCoy elf kindly. But what the McCoy elf anticipated was the ogre’s company, for the McCoy elf was a social animal at heart and longed for social exchanges with his fellow man. 

The McCoy elf could barely remember the small village where he had been growing to adulthood before the ogre took him away from all he had known. The McCoy elf thought of his rosy-cheeked mother and the little sisters who were surely mothers themselves by now.

The McCoy elf remembered well the day that the ogre had come to the village seeking a youth to keep him company. The village elders had decided that the McCoy youth should go with the ogre. McCoy was a dreamer and not of much use to his elderly mother. The ogre said there was a library full of books for the McCoy youth to read, and that was the final plus factor for the young lad. For the McCoy youth was considered to be lazy because he was a dreamer and a reader, and that assessment was probably closer to the truth than he would have liked to have admitted, especially to his deceased father. Besides, he had older, more industrious brothers who would care for their mother. Yet she had wept and clung to him as mothers will, for all children are favorites with their mothers in one way or another. McCoy had always been gentle and sweet, and his mother believed that the world of their village would have less sunshine in it once he was gone.

The McCoy youth never knew about the nature of the sunshine or of any other changes in his native village from that moment forward. For he had turned his back on all that he had known and had followed the ogre away from his childhood home. When they arrived at the ogre’s tree, the McCoy youth squeezed between the tree roots quite easily and became the McCoy elf. And from then on, the McCoy elf had belonged to the ogre. 

The next day the ogre went to his fields and the McCoy elf drew his first book from the library. And so began the cycle of their days, and they were so many that the McCoy elf soon grew tired of counting them and thought only of the books and his life at night with the ogre.

At sunset, the ogre would lumber into the hollow tree and prepare their simple meal of vegetables and fruit and unleavened bread. He would seem very tired from his physical labors all day, but he insisted on cooking. They spoke sporadically, generally about the ideas that the McCoy elf had found in the books he had been reading that day. The ogre always knew something about the topic and had the McCoy elf expound on what he had learned. Thus, their evenings evolved into a comfortable exchange of knowledge. And the ogre was contented with the youth which had been chosen for him for company.

Then, as night settled firmly outside the hollow tree, a strange thing happened. The magic of night or the presence of the golden treasure or both would infuse the living chamber with a soft light, and the two resident men would change their physical appearances. And they would put away the remnants of their meal and think no more of the ideas from books which they had been exchanging.

The ogre shrank in stature and the McCoy elf would enlarge proportionately to the ogre’s shrinkage until they were the same size. Then the two men of equal size became equals in other ways. For the moment, they forgot that they were ogre and man, and they would become aware of each other’s bodies in a sexual way. They also became aware that they wanted to express to each other that they were aware of each other in a sexual way. All that really became important to them then was a need to be together. For at the end of the day, both in real time and metaphorically, all that they really had in their world of enchantment was each other.

Then the McCoy man would lie on his stomach on the mattress filled with corn shucks, and the ogre man would pull open the legs of the McCoy man and introduce his erect penis into the waiting oiled opening situated between the legs of the McCoy man. And the ogre man and the McCoy man would hum in harmony as their bodies joined together in harmony. And the door in the side of the tree trunk where the ogre’s gold lay hidden would swing open to rejoice in the passion shared by the two men engaged in their physical lusts, and the glow from the gold would infuse the room inside the hollow tree with a golden light that was stronger than it had ever been before. And the room with the two rutting men in it would thrum with the pulse of the universe as sparks of gold would whirl and swirl around them. And the moans of their shared lusts would awaken the sleeping birds in the trees and the fish dozing in the nearby stream. And all of Nature would rejoice in the joy that they found in each other’s body deep in the night. And their shared orgasm (for they always reached fulfillment at the same moment) would echo across the hills and inspire the male cows to mount the cows out in the moonlit pastures and the male hogs to mount the sows in their pens. And all of Nature would hum and thrum with fulfillment and regeneration.

And then the two men of equal stature would breathe deeply in perfect peace as a golden haze infused them. And it was a golden haze that had not originated from the shimmering golden coins, but from the two men themselves. And then the two men would fall into an exhausted, but sated sleep in each other’s arms. 

And there they would lie on the rustling corn shucks with the ogre’s arms drawn around the McCoy man in protection and in possession and maybe even in caring. Occasionally, the McCoy man would twist in the arms of the ogre and study his face in the soft light from the shimmering golden coins. And occasionally, for the McCoy man had to be very careful not to awaken the ogre, the McCoy man would reach up and leave a soft kiss on the cheek of the ogre or deep inside the soft skin of the ogre’s neck. For the McCoy man loved having all of the ogre's attentions, even if those adamant attentions sometimes hurt into the McCoy man. Then the McCoy man would wonder what it would feel like to be able to give his heart as well as his body to the ogre. For deep within some hidden part of him, the McCoy man loved the ugly ogre. How could he not? The ogre worked hard for him out in the fields and took care of his every need inside the hollow tree trunk. The ugly ogre treated the McCoy elf/man like a treasured princess, and the McCoy elf/man had everything he might desire. Everything, that is, except his freedom and the ability to come and go as he pleased.

 

And the next morning, the sun would rise on the massive ogre and on the McCoy elf (for he was indeed elf-size, again), and the whole process would start over. The massive ogre would leave to attend to his fields, and the McCoy elf would select another book to continue his solitary studies.

And the McCoy elf never wondered what it would be like to tend the fields alongside the ogre, or if the ogre would like to spend the day reading inside the hollow tree. All that the McCoy elf wondered was when the ogre would release him to become a human. 

 

One night, as they lay in the afterglow of their lovemaking, the McCoy man looked up at the ogre man with a question.

“Why can we not always be like this?” the McCoy man questioned. “Why must you become massive again in the morning while I shrink to something of insignificance again?”

And the ogre man tensed and made to pull away.

“No, wait. You must answer me.”

“I must?! I must answer you?!” the ogre man tried to roar, but of course he was not a massive ogre now but a being of the same size and stature as the McCoy man, so his voice did not sound like a gigantic ogre.

“Yes. You must.” Then the McCoy man did something he had never done before. “Please,” he begged.

And the ogre man relented because he was in his heart kind and not as fearsome as the ogre he seemed to be. “Because that is my defense.”

The McCoy man frowned. “You do not trust me?”

“I do not trust in our equality. It is only for these magic hours at night that we can be as one. For it is only now that the night and tree and the gold protect me.”

“And what protection do I have?” the McCoy man asked, for he felt empowered by his equal size with the ogre man. “After we change back, you might roll over in your sleep and crush me.”

“I always awaken in time to push you asunder, even though my arms feel lonely for the rest of the night. Besides, I know that I will never harm you, even if you do not believe it.”

“How can you be so certain that you will never harm me?” the McCoy man asked, almost sarcastically.

“Because I know that you will harm me first,“ the ogre man answered sadly. 

“How could I harm you?” the McCoy man snorted. “I have no defenses.”

“We are both driven by our fates, and yours is to kill me."

"I will kill you?!"

"It is your destiny. Then the life we had together will be finished, and you will have the freedom you desire. You will break my heart, and I must let you. For I know that someday you will cause my death.”

And the McCoy man could not answer. His freedom for the ogre’s life. How could he answer now? How could he answer when the time came for him to decide?


	2. The Only Way To Keep Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Esperata for the pointy ears on the McCoy elf.

“The only way to keep love is to let it go. If the love is true, it will return because it wants to. Not because it has to.”

As the McCoy elf thought about that passage, he absently touched the point at the top of one of his ears. In that way, the ogre had marked the McCoy youth as his, for the tips matched ones that the ogre had on the tops of his ears. The McCoy elf tended to forget that fact, though, because the ogre‘s hair grew long and shaggy and covered his ears. The McCoy elf tended to forget that the ogre had ears, at all, because he could not see them. But occasionally the ears and their tips were seen, and the McCoy elf caught his breath at their beauty, in spite of himself. He did not know that his ears were equally as adorable, for he could not see them.

Besides, the ogre had said with a rare flash of humor when he had made McCoy into an elf, all elves have points at the tops of their ears. Another reason why the ogre made the McCoy youth into an elf was so that he was small and couldn't escape. The ogre had told him that it would do him no good to try to escape. Even if the McCoy elf ventured outside the hollow tree trunk and turned toward his boyhood home, the journey would do him no good. The McCoy elf could run and run all day back toward the village and never make it past the bank of the creek running at the bottom of the ogre’s hill. It would be an exercise in futility. 

Whenever the McCoy elf groused to himself about being turned into an elf with pointed ears, he had to remember that his fate could have been much worse. At least the ogre had not made McCoy into a tortoise.

If the McCoy elf ever tried to escape and was recaptured again by the ogre, which most assuredly would happen, the ogre might be angry enough to change the McCoy elf into a McCoy tortoise. Or into a beautiful, but stupid swan who swam around and around a circular lake everyday with thoughts of freedom in her mind and the thrill of accomplishment as she emerged each day from the water at the point where she had entered it that morning. Prisons and freedom are only a difference of concepts in the brain, not the presence or lack of physical barriers.

 

The McCoy elf read the words over again. “The only way to keep love is to let it go. If the love is true, it will return because it wants to. Not because it has to.”

That passage had haunted the McCoy elf for days. Did the ogre not realize the danger that lay in reading books? For in reading books came ideas. And from ideas came questioning. And from questioning came the desire for freedom, always the desire for freedom. The McCoy elf made note of other knowledge, for the ogre questioned him extensively in the evenings. But freedom was his main concern. For man thirsts after what he does not have. It may not be what is best for the man, but still he thirsts after it. So, in fact, did the McCoy elf.

 

Then one day the McCoy elf set down the book that he had been reading and looked outdoors through the tree roots. His reading had made him realize that he was as much a prisoner of his own mind as he was of any physical prison where the ogre had secured him. Something moved inside him, and he made a decision. He opened the door to where the ogre’s gold was stored and scooped the golden coins into his pockets. Then he stood staring out between the tree roots.

If the large ogre could squeeze between the tree roots twice a day, why could the McCoy elf not go through the tree roots at least once? The McCoy elf never realized until now that he should have to do a few things for himself, by himself. He had never considered that before. The ogre had influenced his thinking so much, that the McCoy elf assumed that there was no escape. But he was wrong. Books had opened his eyes. Those were just tree roots between him and freedom. But time and tradition had convinced him that he could not go beyond them. The ogre would never give him his freedom, so the McCoy elf would have to take it for himself.

And being an elf and of an elfin stature, the McCoy elf had no trouble at all to pass from the hollow tree trunk into the outside world. In fact, the McCoy elf barely had to duck or turn his body sideways before he found himself standing once more in grass. How long had it been since he had stood in grass? For a few moments, he marveled at the texture and the color and the sharp saw edges of the grass. Never had he studied it so minutely. Was it his study into the ogre’s book that had sharpened his awareness, or was it not being in the world for so long that had made him aware now of details? He supposed that maturity had something to do with his awareness, also, and maybe even being around the ogre and his philosophy. Perhaps it was a combination of all of those factors.

The McCoy elf stood outside the tree and waited for the world to come to an end for him, for he had always supposed that would happen if he wandered outside his prison. Birds continued to sing, though, and the wind continued to slough through the leaves of summer. And the sun, the direct sun that he could not remember clearly, made him blink and finally sneeze. He tried to remember not to stare up into the sun, but it was so odd to see a white light burning in the sky. And the sky! He had forgotten the blueness of the sky. And clouds! So many marvels! He could not get his fill of the marvels as he walked away from his longtime home in the hollow tree and felt the ogre’s golden coins grown heavy in his pockets.

The sun felt wonderful on his skin as he walked, but then it began to burn. The McCoy elf wished that the ogre would step forward with a coat as he had always provided clothing for the McCoy elf in the hollow tree when the McCoy elf had needed protection from the elements. But the ogre was not with him now, and the McCoy elf would have to fend for himself. But the McCoy elf began to worry. He did not know how to take care of himself. The ogre had always cared for him.

Soon the McCoy elf grew hungry, for the sun was high in the sky, and he chided himself for not remembering to bring food with him. Instead, he had gold in his pockets. Gold! He could buy food with gold. Mother’s eyes had always shone softly whenever she had daydreamed about having enough golden coins at her fingertips.

The McCoy elf stopped at a cottage and offered a piece of gold for some bread and cheese, but the woman sent him on his way with a biting tirade. She would not trade her good food for yellow stones, she snorted in derision.

The McCoy elf looked at his treasure in amazement and saw that it was nothing but heavy stones. That stunned him. The ogre’s treasure was worthless?

But he had seen the gold! It had glowed! It was real!

Then the McCoy elf knew the truth. The gold was only real because the ogre made him believe that it was real. Then the McCoy elf wondered if he was only an elf because the ogre made him believe that he was an elf. Did the gold and the elf exist because the ogre believed that they did? Were the gold and the elf really just yellow stones and a human man all the time?

On the other hand, did the ogre exist only because of the gold and the elf believed in him?! Would the ogre cease to exist if the gold and the elf did not believe in him, anymore?!

The ogre believed that the Earthling would cause his death! And that was how the McCoy elf could do it!

And the McCoy elf had left the ogre! What was to happen to the ogre now that the two entities in the universe that believed in him were no longer with him?!

The McCoy elf hurried back toward the hollow tree. But he noticed that he was no longer an elf. He had become a human, just as he had always wished. And he remembered now that the woman who had refused to give him food at the cottage had not looked down at him. In fact, she had looked up to talk to him. That meant that he was a human at last and no longer an elf!

But his triumph was short lived. Being human was no longer as important as it had always thought it would be. Nothing was important anymore if something bad had happened to the ogre because of McCoy. For the ogre had protected the McCoy elf and the gold, and they had both changed back to what they really were. Surely that meant that the ogre no longer lived.

And the ogre didn’t. The McCoy elf who was no longer an elf but now a man found the ogre suffocated and stabbed among the tree roots. His large body could not pass between the roots because the McCoy elf and the gold were no longer inside his lair and awaiting his return. The magic of the ogre had gone with them, and so he had died because he was alone. For there is indeed no magic in the world for those who are alone and have no one to believe in them.

The McCoy man sank to his knees and wept beside the ogre, but tears would not restore life to the ogre. At last the McCoy man threw the golden stones inside the tree trunk and prepared to leave. There was nothing here for him, anymore.

But the McCoy man found that he could not leave the only home he could ever remember having for a long time now. Surely, his mother’s home no longer existed, except in his memory. So here he would stay.

He squeezed himself around the ogre and between the tree roots and found after awhile that he could do this quite easily because he had shrunk back to the size of an elf again. A thought caught him and he looked at the yellow stones. Once again, they were golden coins.

Maybe he could save the ogre! He pulled the ogre inside the hollow tree, for the ogre fit past the tree roots quite easily now. 

The McCoy elf rolled the ogre onto his back and pressed a cloth dampened with wine against the ogre’s lips. The eyes of the McCoy elf were blurred with stinging tears, but he fought them aside to tend to the ogre. For the ogre must live again, or the McCoy elf would never be happy with his freedom. For happiness can never be obtained at the cost of another person’s sadness or even death. For that was one of the many great lessons taught in the books he had read. And the ogre was teaching it to him, as well.

It took awhile, but eventually the green color began to return to the ogre’s rugged complexion. Even his darling ears began to point upwards again instead of drooping.

The ogre opened his eyes and took in the vision of the McCoy elf looking down at him with concern. He reached up one massive paw and gently wiped away the tear that the McCoy elf did not realize was rolling down his cheek.

“The house would not let me in, and I had to get back inside so you would have something to eat. But the tree roots would not bend. Instead, they broke and punctured my skin and organs. But, still I tried. I had to reach you.”

“Hush, hush,” McCoy soothed. “You must regain your strength in order to live.”

“You would want me to live?” the ogre asked in awe.

“Yes, oh, yes!” the McCoy elf replied while nodding his head and laughing and crying all at once. “For I cannot live now without you somewhere in the world. I will not be responsible for your death, for it is only through you that I can live.”

“You returned to me of your own free will,” the ogre said with continuing awe. “You had escaped. I could not have found you, even though you always thought that I could. That was the power I had over you. But you returned.”

“I had to. Where else could I possibly be? My heart was back here, with you.”

“Because there was an influence that held you here that was more powerful than your thoughts for freedom.”

Then a strange thing happened inside that house of strange occurrences. Without the help of the glowing golden coins, the McCoy elf began to grow and the ogre began to shrink until they were the same size again. The two took that as a good sign that they were doing what was right.

The McCoy man knew what would come next. He turned to lie down and spread his legs apart to receive the ogre, but the ogre stopped him. The McCoy man looked back, puzzled. The ogre man opened his arms instead and smiled. The McCoy man snuggled against the ogre, and they slept that way for many healing hours for the ogre man did not shove his penis between the McCoy man‘s legs. It was enough that they were simply together.

 

The next morning the ogre man led the McCoy man out of the hollow tree, and they both smiled up into the warmth of the morning’s sunshine. When they looked back at the tree, they saw yellow stones scattered around the base of a tree with a solid trunk.

“Our home is gone. So is the gold.”

“We do not need them, McCoy.“ 

“But the books, all of your wonderful books--”

“They are in your heart now, just as they are in mine.”

“You have read the books?”

“Yes. But they are only good as tools. Their words are only practical if they are used to teach lessons about the world. Otherwise, they are just sheets of paper with readable markings on them. They must be applied to life to realize their full potential. They cannot exist as hothouse varieties. I admire dandelions more than any hothouse flower, because the dandelion is in the real world. It has fought. It knows its worth, because it has won it.”

“But you kept me and the gold as ornaments. We could not be dandelions.”

“And now you have found your own way,” said the ogre with a smile. “And that way led you back to me. You have become what you were supposed to become, and in the process helped me to become what I was really supposed to be. You might have caused my death by your leaving, but instead you returned and saved me. Because love drew you back to me, and that is one thing that Death cannot destroy.”

“I knew that I could not live not knowing how you fared.”

“That is love, McCoy. I taught it to you, but I did not give it a name until now. But that is love.” The ogre held out his hand. “Come.”

“Where are we going?”

“Down to where I till my fields. I will build a cabin for you. It will have two rooms, one for you and one for me. And I will bring you more books to read all day.”

“I will be a hothouse flower no more!“ McCoy declared. “I will work by your side for the rest of my days. I will help build the cabin, but it will have only one room and one bed. Or I leave.”

The ogre studied the McCoy man. “Are you certain?”

“I cannot live without you now. I learned that while I was gone. The gold failed me, but you did not. I failed you.”

“But you came back and saved me. For that, I would let you live alone. You can go into the world now, and find a place for you to settle with your own kind.”

“I do not want to go into the world now, for my world is here with you. I do not wish to live alone, for that is another form of being dead. Do you not remember that lesson from your books? There is only life through life, and I wish to live with you, in the fullest meaning of those words. Believe in me now, as I believe in you.” He gave the ogre a significant look. “I want to come to you willingly whenever you reach for me.”

The ogre tilted his head. “You wish to lie with me again?”

“Yes. Now, in fact.”

The ogre looked around. “Out here? In the sunshine? Where anyone could see us?”

“Particularly out here where anybody could see us. I am not ashamed anymore. I want the world of man to know what joy that I have found with you. In giving our love to each other, we have found it returned a hundredfold.“ 

“You did find wisdom, indeed, in my books,“ the ogre said with a gentle smile.

The McCoy man returned the smile and held out his hand. “Come. We will write our own fairy tales someday. The bards will sing of our exploits for generations. But first we must begin our tale.”

“Just so I can make you sing now, McCoy.”

“I know you can, ogre. The only question is if I can help you make our song into a duet.”

“I will be most willing to accept your attempts, McCoy.”

“What do I call you, ogre? ’Ogre’ is not a name, but an abomination.”

“You may call me Spock.”

“Spock, it is then. A good man who was once an ogre, but is one no longer. He was always good in his heart. I just couldn't see it until now.” McCoy held out his hand and smiled. “Come. Let us begin composing the next epic saga for our descendants.”

“We must tend to the fields and build the cabin first.”

“We must have a joyous heart to do all of those things, my Spock ogre. And I know how to perform that miracle for both of us.”

With a smile, Spock allowed McCoy to lead him down to the soft cushion of the summer grass beneath the tree that used to have a hollow trunk where they used to live. But they would live in the air and the sunshine and the world of other men, and they would create their own magic together from now on.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
